


14 Life #writober2020

by YungWenLean



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27005005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YungWenLean/pseuds/YungWenLean
Summary: Heroic time is linear. There is a beginning, there is progression, and there is an end. Yang wanted to live in a circular time that had no end and no beginning, a time where a day repeated itself over and over again. He knew that this wasn’t it for real, it was that the gears in his heroic linear life had jammed, and soon somebody would come and fix them.
Relationships: Frederica Greenhill/Yang Wenli
Kudos: 9





	14 Life #writober2020

**Author's Note:**

> Rollin on with #writober2020

Yang woke up from his nap when he heard the front door open. Frederica was back.

“Honey, I saw Dusty at the library today. At the modern fiction shelf.”

Frederica got to run errands for him. It wasn’t right, but they were watching her less and it was simply easier for her to go to the library to get the books he needed.

“Did you say hi?”

Frederica came in, leaned over him and gave Yang a swift kiss. She was Yang too now. It was still dreamlike. Having a wife come home, having a wife run errands for you, having a wife who kissed you like that, like it was a normal thing. Yang didn’t feel that he deserved ths wife, or this life for that matter, but he tried not to argue too much with fate.

“We nodded to each other, but we avoided too much contact. Thomas and Voigt talked to each-other for a bit.”

“Good choice, probably. Who are Thomas and Voigt?”

“Thomas is that blond young gentleman who watches me Tuesdays and Thursdays, the one who’s allergic to peaches. Voigt is that older guy who hangs after Dusty.”

Frederica started unpacking her bag. She had three of the books he had asked for, an imperial novel that she probably picked up for herself and three volumes of protocols from parliament debates for the years of 772, 773 and 774. She had been working through the dry political discussions with her usual discipline, starting at the year 757 when Domino Publishing started publishing transcripts of what their analysts decided to be the most essential political debates of last year. 

“You’re on the 70’s already” Yang said, impressed as always by the amount of work she was ready to put in when she found something interesting. She read parts of the debates out loud for him and as a historian he found them interesting, but he didn’t quite have the dedication to read through every word, volume after volume. Frederica blushed. “I'm just trying to understand how the country could get to where it is today. Adams suggested a large centralisation project last year, I mean in 771. The opposition is massive, but I know he’ll get his way. I really want to see how he’ll do it.”

“That was about the time of the tax reform, right?” Yang asked. Frederica answered from the kitchen where she started unpacking the groceries,“Yes, it’s ‘74. Oh and I’m sorry, honey, they didn’t have  _ The State of Freedom _ that you asked for. I think it might be blacklisted.” 

“I expected that. What’s for dinner?”

Yang could hear Frederica blush. “I thought I’d make that pumpkin soup that Hortense taught me. If it’s alright?”

That soup had been the every second meal for the last two weeks, but Yang didn’t mind. “Frederica, can you please get me a cup of tea once the pumpkin is in the oven?” he asked. The soup essentially cooks itself when you oven roast the pumpkin. When Frederica will come to him with the tea, he will ask her to sit down with him. Maybe they will talk more about the books. Maybe he will just hold her. Maybe they will kiss and snuggle up under the woolen blanket.

After that Frederica will get up and make the rest of the soup. Slice up some bread. Put out the plates. He will read and wait for his wife – his wife – to say “the dinner is ready”. They will eat, there was a half empty wine bottle from yesterday, so they will probably finish it. They will talk about books, and people they know, and the news, and maybe something more light hearted. They will take care of the dishes together.

They will take a walk, just around the block, to get some fresh air. They will be followed by men whom Yang can’t tell apart, but Frederica remembers everything about them. When they get home, he will pour himself a glass of brandy, and Frederica will probably ask for just a little in her glass, just a sip to cover the bottom, and he’ll pour her a little, but she will not finish it. They will read and listen to music. Frederica used to listen to music with her parents. Neither of them is good at talking, so letting her choose the music is a way to get to know her.

In bed, they will read. They didn’t have sex yesterday, so they probably will tonight. It has taken time for them to figure each other out, but two nights ago Yang figured out how to keep his hand from cramping up at a critical moment. They will probably try that again, unless Frederica’s period has started. In that case they will just sleep. Tomorrow they will wake up and it will start over again. 

Yang never wanted to make history, he just wanted to study it. Appearing in a history book other than a reference in the back had never appealed to him. He tried to avoid it, but he seemed to have the worst of luck with that. Since El-Facil he had been mentioned as a hero in at least two well-regarded military history schoolbooks. Heroic time is linear. There is a beginning, there is progression, and there is an end. Yang wanted to live in a circular time that had no end and no beginning, a time where a day repeated itself over and over again. He knew that this wasn’t it for real, it was that the gears in his heroic linear life had jammed, and soon somebody would come and fix them. 

Frederica put a tray with two tea cups on the table, sat down next to him and opened debates of 772. Over Frederica’s shoulder Yang could see that the book was full of faded notes. Years ago it must have fallen in the hands of an irresponsible Political Science major. Frederica leaned against him. Yang knew how the rest of the day would play out. 


End file.
